Like a River of Copper
by Kilara16
Summary: ...My fingers reached out, gently wrapped themselves in a few of the curls, and let them slide through like silk. I couldn’t stop. I was drowning. I was flying... One shot. A tad of humor.


Well, I'm not sure what I think about this. Its the first time I've ever written anything like it, so give me lots of feedback, k? )

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Oh how life sucks.

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** Like a River of Copper **

It was like a river of copper; always flowing and twisting, catching the light and turning it to gold before flashing it right back at you. Small waves and odd shiny curls would peak out in random places, causing it to always change. You could never glance at it twice and see it the same.

It beckoned to my fingers, which ached to run through its lengths as I would dip them in a rushing brook. It called to me, telling me to bury my face in it as I would submerge it into a deep lagoon. It summoned my senses, demanding that I discover its scent and feel.

I'd been fascinated with her hair since I was a first year. So different from mine, which was firmly disciplined into place with layers of gel. Mine had an odd habit of flipping out or curling along the edges; hence the gel. A Malfoy with curls breached an unspoken family law. Hers, however, was wild and free, daring the world to contradict its powerful frizz. It told of a bright, free soul, and demanded attention like the girl it belonged to. Untamable, it spoke of her determination. Its softness told of a untainted heart.

At breakfast, I looked for its chestnut color before even glancing at my food. During class, I always made sure to sit behind her in order to see it better. In Potions, her curls were more distracting than Longbottom's frequent combustions. She was the reason behind all of my lost Quidditch matches. While playing, I found myself looking for the golden gleam of her hair more often than the bright flash of the snitch. And people thought my flying just wasn't as good as Potter's.

Really, you morons. Grow a pair of eyes.

Today really didn't start out any different. I stumbled to the breakfast table, stole a cup of coffee from a first year who didn't need it, and looked across the hall. A mass of warm, brown curls, tied haphazardly with a red ribbon, greeted my eyes at the end of the Gryffindor table. Loose strands framed a pretty face and sparkling hazel eyes, and my stomach clenched in a very familiar way. A not-so-discreet bump from a fellow Slytherin shook me from my reverie, and I glared. Hell, I'd been staring for the last seven years; it wasn't like she or anyone else at that table would notice now. Still, I went back to my coffee. After all, she'd be there in my classes all day, right?

Transfiguration was first. I got there early and sat in the very back. Student trailed in, some of them still munching on toast, but she never appeared. I didn't understand….she never missed classes unless she was off helping Potter save the world, and the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Me was only four seats away, looking happy, healthy, and damned irritating. As Potions rolled around and she didn't appear, my confusion increased and a odd feeling began to grow in my chest. After lunch, Charms, and History of Magic, the odd feeling had grown to resemble an iron band around my chest.

Where was she? She had been fine at breakfast, so what could have happened? Why wasn't anyone acting worried? Dangerous, dark-lord-filled times, people!!

At dinner, I growled, snarled, and snapped. I didn't feel like eating. In fact, I was nearly to the point of panicking – an action below Malfoys like the dirt beneath our designer Italian shoes. I lasted for approximately ten minutes before I stood and stormed from the hall.

I'd find her if it was the last thing I did. If I had to travel to Tibet and farm rice for twenty years before her evil kidnapper freed her, I would. I was determined.

Luckily for me, it didn't take quite that long to find her. I was flying down a pair of steps away from the Great Hall, forming numerous devious plans in my head, when someone smashed into me.

Ok, fine. _I_ smashed into someone. Happy?

I instinctively grabbed at the person, and we tumbled down the last several steps. With a groan, I landed flat on my back with the other person half-sprawled, half sitting on top of me. I was about to shove whoever it was off when I my mind registered the golden brown curls cascading around my head, curtaining us off from the rest of the world.

Oh Lord. I recognized those curls.

Even as relief that I wouldn't be farming rice in Tibet pounded through my veins, I watched in horror as my hand took on a life of its own. Slowly, it traveled up. Desperately, I tried to stop myself, but it was too late. With the back of my hand, I brushed one of the shining, burnished curls. My heart felt like it would pound right out of my chest, and I literally stopped breathing. It was even softer than I imagined. My fingers reached out, gently wrapped themselves in a few of the curls, and let them slide through like silk. I couldn't stop. I was drowning. I was flying.

Each second, I expected to hear a shriek and feel her hand connecting with my face. Yet instead, I watched in fascination as her eyes widened, then closed. As my fingers continued to play in the liquid gold that was her hair, she sat utterly still and her lips parted slightly. Time seemed to stop as my hands caressed her curls; nothing existed except me and the girl sprawled across my chest. One of my fingers stroked a curl right behind her ear. Almost inaudibly, she moaned.

"Don't stop."

A second passed, and then her eyes flew open as she realized what she had just said. She took a shaky breath. Granted, I already hadn't displayed much self-control. But with those words, any remnants of self-control I had left shattered into thousands of pieces. In less then a moment I had rolled us both over, cradling her head in my hands against the hard stone floor. The candle light bounced off her fanned out curls looking like liquid sun. A river of copper.

I looked at the girl underneath me and knew that I'd never seen anything as beautiful. My lips brushed against hers in a feather-light kiss. A promise.

"Don't worry," I whispered with our lips still touching. "I don't plan to."

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Tell me!! How was it? It was just something that kept jumping around in the back of my mind screaming for attention. So, give me lots of reviews and I'll love you to death. And yes, the girl is Hermione, even though her name isn't mentioned. 

Oh, and happy new year!! Welcome 2008!!


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